Honeycombs and Bittersweets

Chapter Nine ~ Suspicious Minds - Part Two

Luther had never been keen of grim topics never mind ghost stories and wondered how they had drifted on to the subject of eternal rest; he shivered by the thought of it and was determined to move the subject back on to what they had been discussing before their recent unanticipated topic. He cleared his throat with a forced cough as he spoke “well getting back on the subject at hand, I understand that the Bittersweet’s have always found the pleasure in torment us in anyway possible, that I know from Arthur with you showing off all his splendour in front of you but you got your own back by making him come second place in Confectionary Competition by winning. Frederick was nearly much the same with me but instead of showing off as his father did; he had the tendency to ask very personal questions in front of an on looking audience as well as invading privacy by being too awkwardly close. But this boy” he sighed exhausted “he is a beast the way he acts the way he speaks-” he stopped himself as he held the bridge of his nose with his free hand taking a silent breath while closing his eyes. He knew he had already that he had expressed his opinion and the events of the day, and he grew tired of repeating himself he took a moment to reconcile what he would say next. He let go the bridge of his nose as he opened his eyes “as I already said before I am not his true competitor, Lacie is. That is was concerns me. The boy has no respect or decency I am worried for the future what he might do.”

Startled beyond compare by his admitting statement of concern and worry for his daughter he wanted to press the matter further but he knew that pressing the matter would only be responded with denial of the potential of parental affection. But before he could respond Luther had continued speaking changing the topic entirely by saying “he is truly the most horrid brat I have ever known.”

“Really?” he questioned disinterested as his eyes began to slowly return to his paper.

“Yes” he immediately replied swinging his head looking at his father dead on, “in my day a boy knew his rightful place in sociality and treated his elders with respect unlike these days, especially Frederick’s son.”

His father gave him the questionable look briefly before gazing back down at his paper and choose to remain silent about his son’s hypocritical comment, before Luther said something that sparked a fire in him as Luther said “at least Lacie doesn’t not behave like he does. That I can say she is positively a hundred times better, but what would you expect with the way I brought her up?”

That was the last straw thought Harold his hope for his son dashed and replaced with hopelessness, for a moment he thought his son was beginning to change towards his daughter. He folded his paper and proceeded to stand up with his paper at his side as he pushed up his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his free hand, exasperated he replied defensively as well as offensively for the first time in a long time. “Oh yes you’re a great father, your never here, you don’t provide for your daughter emotionally or essentially. Yes that is a wonderful example of being a great father I must say” he looked at his jaw dropped son who was stunned beyond capable speech his eyes plunging out of his head in disbelief. Not giving his son the time to ponder on what he had just said he said tiredly “now if you excuse me I wish to retire for the night. Goodbye.”

And with that he made his exit disappearing from the room leaving Luther to contemplate himself on what he had just listed with his glass of gin.

Days of countless suspicions, endless mounting paperwork of both old and new accounts had persuaded him to claim a lengthy residence in his own home; he wanted to solve this mysterious mystery that had nagged him every day since returning home. It seemed whether he went where ever he looked he saw something that was completely out of character and out of place; the routine of everyday life he had known even in his absence had been disturbed and deeply clouded with disarray. He would investigate without interrogation and pretend that he couldn’t see the abrupt change that played out in front of him; he would witness these changes at first hand personally. But first he needed to finish these damn accounts that had immensely piled up disfigured in an intimidating mountain paperwork to be checked, confronted and confirmed on his desk.